


Quintessence

by wanderingghost



Series: I Dreamt of The Sea [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingghost/pseuds/wanderingghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She was the First Enchanter’s star pupil, the last apprentice he had decided to take on. She was as chilling as a blizzard and as fiery as an inferno. She was as witty as she was beautiful, and people felt instantly attracted to her. She was Solona Amell and she had the most ridiculous habit of falling asleep on the tabletop. Even that, he found incredibly endearing. But she was a mage, and that was where it ended before it even began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Solona Amell

He missed home. The tower felt cold and dark, despite the effects of magic keeping the air warm and bouncing off the walls. He had lived there for two years now and he still could not get used it. Although, he thanked the Maker that he was used to walking up hills in Redcliffe. The stairs in the tower seemed to stretch on forever as well and the Templars’ quarters were on the third floor. And since he was still relatively new, he was assigned to patrol the apprentice’s floor. He wasn’t sure whether that was a blessing or a curse. Aside from the apprentices accidentally setting themselves on fire providing an arsenal of entertainment for him, he also had to keep an eye that no stray arcane bolts destroy anything of particular importance. Then there was _her_.  
  
She was the First Enchanter’s star pupil, the last apprentice he had decided to take on. She was as chilling as a blizzard and as fiery as an inferno. She was as witty as she was beautiful, and people felt instantly attracted to her. She was Solona Amell and she had the most ridiculous habit of falling asleep on the tabletop. Even that, he found incredibly endearing.  
  
Maker’s breath, he was hopelessly smitten with her.  
  
But she was a mage, and that was where it ended before it even began. She was a mage, and he was a Templar. He was sanctioned to protect and guard her from herself and others. He had a _duty_. It was something his seniors liked to remind him of when they caught him conversing with the other mages at times. The mages also seemed to like him, he supposed it was because he was not as strict as most Templars around them. However, they were still his peers and guarding them was no small feat. Even now one of the apprentices had accidentally unleashed a flurry of frost at everyone in the immediate vicinity. He turned in time and shielded his face. Ice crept up the back of his armour in thin tendrils. The Senior Enchanter sighed, dropping her arcane shield and dismissed the young apprentice to clean up the mess he had made. He had also heard someone yell and looked to his right to see Solona with half her body covered in ice. She shivered and bristled angrily. A shard of ice had cut her cheek and she reached up with her hand to touch it, wincing slightly.  
  
“A-Are you alright?” he took a step forward to her.  
  
The cut was shallow, but still, the idea of any kind of harm inflicted upon her made him angry. She looked up at him with her warm brown eyes and he had to take a deep breath to control his heart. No, never mind, it just sputtered and died in his chest. The frost was quickly starting to melt and now she was getting soaked.  
  
“Yes, thank you, Cullen,” she sighed, standing up. “I need to change out of these wet robes now.”  
  
He watched as she left to the dormitories, and return moments later. She was always in the library, her dark hair pulled up in a bun and tendrils framing her small and petite face. He had heard the high praises about her from the First Enchanter _and_ the Knight-Commander. It was highly unusual for an apprentice to command that much of respect. Especially from the _Knight-Commander_. Although to be fair, Greagoir was not a wholly unsympathetic Templar, as far as most Templars went. Cullen supposed it was because he and Irving had been friends for such a long time. Don’t be mistaken though; they did have their share of petty squabbles as well.  
  
But he understood, from the many times he had nothing else better to do during his routinely shifts in the library. She was a highly skilled mage, and absolutely beautiful. If it weren’t for their separate positions in life, he might have tried his hand at wooing her. Although, he suspected that wouldn’t turn out quite as well as he would imagine. She was confident in both her skills and appearance. While he was a stuttering, bumbling fool.  
  
And again there she was, head slumped against the table and eyes closed, fast asleep. A mage he easily recognised (only because all the Templars pointed him out as the resident escape artist, and all the apprentices resented him for cancelling their yearly swimming lessons) walked up to her and brushed the feather of his quill along her nose. She stirred then jumped right out of her seat that he had to suppress a snort of laughter.  
  
“Anders!” she cried out in annoyance. “What are you- Ugh, Maker.”  
  
“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” he said in a singsong voice.  
  
She sighed. “Was there something you needed to have disrupted me from my oh-so-pleasant dreams?”  
  
“I was just saving you from weeks of ridicule at the hands of passing apprentices,” he replied. “To find the First Enchanter’s star pupil slumped in a corner of the library, drooling across the tabletop. _Oh, but the shame_. And exactly what sort of pleasant dreams have I interrupted?”  
  
He smirked mischievously.  
  
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she raised an eyebrow, mirroring his expression.  
  
“You’re such a tease,” he sighed. “Anyway, I need help with this… proposal.”  
  
“Proposal?” she deadpanned. “A proposal on your latest scheme to escape the Tower? What have you hatched this time? Going to tunnel your way out with a spoon?”  
  
“No, you horribly wretched woman,” he scoffed. “I was going to propose to grow myself a set of wings and launch myself out of the highest window.”  
  
“Oh, I certainly approve of that plan,” she grinned.  
  
“I need a spirit stone from the stockroom,” he said. “Torrin insisted I write a proposal before he signs the form.”  
  
“Can’t you just ask Sweeney or Leorah?”  
  
“I can’t find Sweeney anywhere,” he cried in dismay. “And Leorah hates me.”  
  
She laughed. “Oh, _yes_ , I completely forgot about _that_.”  
  
“Solona, please,” Anders pleaded. “Just read the damn thing.”  
  
“Oh, alright, give it here,” she took the piece of paper from him and set to work.  
  
After a moment, she looked up at him in shock.  
  
“To do _what_?” she asked.  
  
“What’s wrong with it?” he furrowed his brows.  
  
“It’s- Are you sure?” she frowned.  
  
“It’s completely safe, I assure you!” he said. “Torrin didn’t have a problem with my idea.”  
  
“But-“ she looked around the library before her eyes rested on him. “Ser Cullen!”  
  
He slid his eyes over to her nervously at her call.  
  
“Y-yes…?”  
  
“Is it appropriate to perform a small summoning of a _nug spirit_ within the Tower?” she arched her brow further.  
  
“I…” he looked at her, stunned. “I believe so.”  
  
“Oh,” she looked at Anders apologetically then beamed. “Well, can I be in on this too?”  
  
“I thought you might ask that.”  
  
She gathered her things and replaced the book she had borrowed back in its place before following Anders to find the Senior Enchanter. The section of the library he had placed himself at became terribly mundane once again. He started to walk around the library, until he believed he had stood around in every corner of the room. A group of apprentices had walked in an hour ago and he had contented himself to listen in on their conversations. Something dropped onto his head while he was staring at the opposite wall in a daze. The offending object dropped to the floor at his feet and the book opened itself, crumpling a few pages in the process. There was a cry of dismay and he turned around to find _her_.  
  
“Oh, Andraste’s mercy,” she cried. “I’m so sorry, Cullen!”  
  
He rubbed the back of his head and tried to smile. “Oh. It’s quite alright. Uh…”  
  
He reached down to retrieve the book from the floor, attempting to smooth back the now dog-eared pages before giving it back to her. He wondered how she had managed to get behind him without his noticing.  
  
“It wasn’t even the book I was trying to reach for,” she mumbled, going on her tiptoes to put it back.  
  
He helped her push it back into its rightful place on the top shelf.  
  
“Which one were you after?” he asked.  
  
“That one over there,” she pointed to a heavy leather bound book. “Written by Brother Genetivi _._ ”  
  
He pulled the hardcover book out of its slot and scanned the cover title. _The History of Grey Wardens in Ferelden_.  
  
“Grey Wardens?” he asked as he handed the book over.  
  
“Oh, it’s just a bit of light reading,” she shrugged sheepishly.  
  
It was the first time he had ever seen her look so shy. And he had seen her a lot of times. Maybe a bit too much than he would care to admit.  
  
“I like the stories about the griffons,” she explained. “I know it’s silly…”  
  
“I know some of those stories,” he smiled softly. “My father used to tell them to me.”  
  
“Really?” she looked up at him with those warm brown eyes of hers.  
  
“Uh, yes…” he rubbed the back of his neck again. “He used to tell me bedtime stories about the Grey Wardens, a-about how they used to sweep down on the darkspawn on their great griffons and fly around in the sky battling the archdemons."  
  
“It’s so sad there are no more griffons,” she pouted sadly. “My favourite story is the one about Ser Rylien and his golden griffon. Have you heard that one before?”  
  
“I don’t think I have…”  
  
She gasped in delight as she recounted how Ser Rylien had tamed the apparently aggressive griffon with his wit and courage. The golden griffon accepted no other man, woman or child to touch him but for noble Ser Rylien. The day he perished in battle against the archdemon, the golden griffon laid down by his side and refused to move until eventually it too died alongside its master. He loved the way she started to get so animated, lost in her tale and fantasies. When she was done, she paused and looked up at him again with that sheepish look on her face.  
  
“Sorry, I must be disturbing you,” she said. “Uh… I’ll just… I’ll just go… now.”  
  
“N-no,” he managed to blurt out. “You’re not disturbing me at all! I mean, well, you are… but no… I mean. You can always talk to me.”  
  
He gave a small smile, which she returned with a wide grin.  
  
“It must be pretty boring to stand guard everyday,” she said. “I always see you here in the library though.”  
  
“Er… yes,” he replied. “Well, it’s not really _that_ boring.”  
  
He shrugged at her expectant look.  
  
“You hear some interesting things sometimes.”  
  
She giggled. “Oooooh, do share!”  
  
“I-I don’t know,” he looked around.  
  
“Awh, come now,” she looked around as well. “There’s nobody here.”  
  
He had heard about her incredible persuasive powers, even from the other Templars. The number of times she had managed to talk her way out of midnight excursions to the kitchen would have landed any other mage a Rite of Tranquillity.  
  
He was pretty sure it was those damn eyes. And lips.  
  
Maker, help his poor soul.  
  
“Well, I had heard earlier…” he hushed his voice.  
  
“Cullen! What in Andraste’s blood are you doing?” one of the senior Templars turned the corner and caught them.  
  
“Wha- Uh- Nothing! I was just-“  
  
“Oh, Ser Alden!” Solona chirped innocently. “Ser Cullen was merely helping me procure this book from the top shelf. He’s so much taller than me, you see, and I’m so short. I’m horribly sorry for distracting him from his duties. I’ll just be off now, have a _pleasant_ evening, Sers!”  
  
She shot him a look over her shoulder before running off to the other side of the library. Alden watched her leave before turning his glare on him. He merely shrugged and resumed his guarding duty. Alden eventually walked away and Cullen finally allowed himself to relax a little. A few days later, he had been innocently patrolling the corridors one night when he heard someone quietly trying to draw his attention from a pillar on his left. He frowned, approaching the figure in the shadows. He had a mana-draining spell at the ready when a familiar face popped into the light.  
  
“Maker’s breath, what are you doing?” he hissed. “You know you’re not supposed to be sneaking about outside hours.”  
  
“I fell asleep,” she rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. He was really starting to adore that expression on her. “Nobody woke me up. I-uh- can you help me get back, please?”  
  
He rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Wasn’t this how Rod had been banished to the laundry room before? This woman was a horrible little tempting… _minx_! And he was _horribly_ , and utterly infatuated with her. He tried to remember who was the other Templar that was patrolling the corridor around the apprentice’s dormitories and remembered that it was Hadley. Maker’s breath, he would not be able to get around _that_. Solona looked at him patiently as he turned ten shades of pale.  
  
“I can’t, the Knight-Captain is on duty tonight,” he sighed. “I’m sorry, Solona.”  
  
“Oh, well, I guess I’ll just have to stay here,” she sighed, shrinking back into the shadows.  
  
“What?” he looked at her in alarm. “Here?”  
  
“In the shadows, yes,” she hissed. “Don’t tell Hadley!”  
  
“Maker’s mercy, _Solona_ ,” he hissed back.  
  
“Yes, Ser Cullen?” she leaned forward slightly, batting her eyelashes.  
  
He closed his eyes in pain and tried to focus on his breathing. He had heard all the things people said about her. She was as notorious as that bastard Anders, and that was exactly how the two managed to get along so well. But unlike the male mage who had slept with practically half the Circle, Solona was the complete opposite. She danced around people, getting her way with her charm. She was _not_ going to have him wrapped around her little finger. Oh, no…  
  
Then he opened his eyes and looked into her brown ones, and her slightly parted red lips. And _oh, Maker_ … he was a weak man. His resolve crumbled into ashes.  
  
“Alright, just follow me,” he said, trying to muster some nerve.  
  
“You’re bringing me back to the dormitory?” her eyes lit up.  
  
“Yes, I’ll distract Hadley,” he told her.  
  
He walked back down the corridor and she followed behind him, sticking to the shadows. Was she really a mage and not a rogue? He found Hadley standing right in front of the dormitory door and quickly tried to think up of an excuse.  
  
“Knight-Captain,” he called.  
  
“Cullen? What are you doing away from your post?” Hadley looked up at him in surprise.  
  
“I- uh- I heard something strange from the basement,” he said.  
  
“What? Are the Sentinels acting strangely?” the older Templar asked in alarm.  
  
“I don’t know, Ser, there was this loud rumbling and-“  
  
“Let me see,” Hadley rushed down the corridor.  
  
He waited for a second, looking around for any signs of the mischievous apprentice but apparently, she was well concealed wherever she was hiding. Then there was a soft click as the dormitory door shut behind him.  
  
She had to be the reincarnation of some kind of demon.


	2. An Ordinary Life

Solona liked to imagine a life where magic did not exist. A world with no demons, no temptations and no Fade. The reason for this was because she had fallen in love with a Templar. A Templar! Of all things. She kept this secret to herself, not even Anders or Jowan knew about it. In her fantasies, she was just an ordinary girl. Her family had been nobles in Kirkwall, so she supposed she would be any other noblewoman. She would go to the market and shop for Orlesian silks and laces. She would visit every shoe shop in the city until she found the perfect pair that would match her new dress for the upcoming party the next evening.

If she had been an ordinary girl with no magic, she might have looked up to the Templars. She might giggle over how handsome and dashing they looked in their suit of armour. Maybe one of them would take an interest in her as well. Maybe it would be a blond haired Templar. Maybe it would be a _certain_ blond haired Templar. She sighed and laid her head down on the table as she usually did in the library. There wasn’t anywhere else to go for an apprentice, and she had found a particularly nice spot in the corner. She could spy her favourite Templar from that spot easily whenever he was on duty in the library.

She remembered thinking, surely the Templars felt as bored and stifled in the Tower as the rest of the mages.

Ever since Anders, that incorrigible boy, had tried to swim across the lake to escape, Knight Commander Greagoir had cancelled their yearly swimming exercises. That was the only time apprentices were allowed outside of the tower. She wondered whether the Templars were allowed to step through those doors whenever they liked. She sighed again and closed her eyes, wondering briefly where Anders or Jowan were. She got up from her seat and went to return her book in exchange for a new one. She had to pass by his station and she could feel the butterflies surfacing. She banished them back to their hole.

“Good afternoon, Ser Cullen,” she smiled at him.

He looked at her with those warm amber eyes that made her insides twist into something awful. His lips curved upwards slowly.

“Good afternoon, Solona,” he nodded to her.

She inhaled deeply in an attempt to keep her heart steady. _No, come on, Solona, this is not you. You are a confident and able mage; boys give you doe eyed stares, not the other way around._

“Is there uh… something you needed?” he asked.

Oh, was she just standing there gawking again?

“Oh, no, nothing,” she replied quickly. “Sorry for disturbing you.”

She turned away quickly and scurried behind the bookcases, only to realise that the book she was trying to return was on the shelf next to him. She gripped the damn thing in her hands and peeked around the corner. He had his back turned to her now. Maybe she could quietly put it back without his noticing. She reached up on her tiptoes to push the book back and attempted to pull out the one next to it. Damn these high shelves, she thought, as she scraped her nails on the binder. She managed to tip the book back but saw it was the wrong one she had been reaching for. Her calves strained from the effort of keeping herself upright and she had to fall back onto her heels. Unfortunately, the blasted book fell with her and knocked Cullen on the back of his head. She thought she swore (highly unladylike) and started to apologise.

He smiled at her and bent down to pick up the book, which was now mangled. Finn would have had a heart attack. She mumbled that it was the wrong one and went to replace it. Cullen easily pushed it back for her and kindly retrieved the right one. He glanced at the cover and they proceeded to chat. Well, she was doing most of the chatting, to be honest. She was about to leave when he told her that she could always talk to him. So she proceeded to try and pry some idle gossip out of him when one of the senior Templars caught sight of them. It must have been an odd sight, a mage and a Templar whispering to each other in an empty corner of the library. _Oh, the scandal!_ Yet the idea seemed to embolden her. _Yes, mischief is what I excel at_ , she thought. She quickly explained herself to Ser Alden before scurrying off again to the other side of the library to avoid suspicion.

Solona promptly dropped her head onto the table with a loud thud. Her forehead stung but anything to get rid of the embarrassment trying to cripple her. She sat back up slowly and glanced down at her new book. _The History of Grey Wardens in Ferelden_. She had always loved history, especially the ones about epic battles and heroic sacrifices. The Grey Wardens certainly filled all the criteria. She traced the emblem on the front cover and wished she could have a griffon. Of course, she wished they stopped being extinct as well.

Autumn had given way to winter. It was easy to tell in the tower, the stone became that much colder and no matter how many layers of clothes you wore, it was still cold. Winters anywhere in Ferelden were usually harsh and soon enough, the snow fell in flurries outside. They had to close all the windows and lit every fireplace in the building. During particular awful nights, the Knight Commander would allow the mages to cast a heating spell over the tower. Even that staved the cold just a little. Magic boggled her sometimes; they were either insane manifestations of power or completely underwhelming huffs. It was funny.

Anders finally found her as she was huddled in the dormitory under the covers. She did not want to leave the comfort of her bed but he insisted on dragging her out. They arrived in the library, for where else could they possibly go anyway, but their usual seat was occupied. They had to settle for a table closer to the entrance. She yawned, throwing her hair back into a bun and tucking stray tendrils behind her ears. She had wrapped two shawls around her shoulders and Anders had taken her third one.

He was now preparing to tell her all about his latest victim. It was a young apprentice with red curls. She was from Orlais but her parents had moved to Ferelden for some reason or other and requested her change to Kinloch Hold. The Circle loved nobility for whatever strange reason. He was gushing about her accent and _oh, mercy_ , she got out of bed just for this. The things she does for her friends sometimes.

“He’s staring at you again,” Anders leaned over to whisper in her ear.

She knew who he was talking about and a small blush started spreading across her cheeks. She smiled despite herself and resisted the urge to turn around.

“Is he still staring?” she asked.

“Yeah, don’t you think that’s creepy?” he raised an eyebrow. “It’s kind of obvious he has a thing for you.”

She shrugged her narrow shoulders and tried to look nonchalant.

“I don’t mind.”

Anders eyed her for a few seconds before gasping, eyes widening in realisation. She started at his sudden reaction, almost tipping her chair over before she managed to grab hold of the table.

“You fancy him,” he hissed accusatorily.

“I-I-“ she sputtered, blood rushing to her cheeks, then managed to blurt. “Do not!”

“I know when you’re lying, Solona, and your face is totally flushed right now,” he said.

“But-“ she tried to think of an excuse but her mind was not cooperating with her at the moment.

“He’s a Templar!” Anders narrowed his eyes, throwing a glance over her shoulder, no doubt, at the man in question.

_Thank you, Anders, for pointing out the painfully obvious_.

“I always wondered why you were never really interested in anyone,” he said. “Turns out your more interested in forbidden fruits.”

“Maker, Anders, please stop,” she groaned.

He teased her a bit more until she threatened to leave him on his own. He quickly ceased but continued to throw sidelong glances over her shoulder. She sighed and listened to him gossip and plot. One thing about Anders was that there was never a boring second with him around. He always had a plethora of ideas and things to talk about. She had no idea how he managed that but she was a little thankful for the distraction. It helped to keep her mind off the ridiculously handsome young Templar standing ten feet behind her.

Solona always had a bad habit of falling asleep in the library, and especially at the worst possible times. It was late in the evening and the library had started to empty out. She was slumped over the table, drawing sketches of animals on a piece of vellum. She had no idea when it happened, but she had managed to doze off and was only awaken by someone gently tapping her shoulder. She blinked her eyes open, still heavy from sleep and looked up blearily. Even though her mind was still hazy, her body had an instant reaction and she found herself freezing. Cullen was smiling down at her with an amused expression.

“Cullen?” she murmured, not quite grasping her situation just yet.

“Solona,” he nodded, as he usually did. “The curfew bell has rung.”

“Oh,” her eyes blinked lazily and he covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. Wait, what did he just say. She jumped in her seat as realisation finally dawned on her. “Oh! I’m so sorry!”

“I suppose I’ll have to escort you back to your room now,” he told her. “Only because, you know… um… it’s the rules.”

“Yes… yes! We’ll go right now,” she gathered her sketches, rolling them up and getting onto her feet swiftly. He eyed the sketches in her hand curiously.

“I didn’t know you drew,” he said.

“What? Oh… it’s nothing,” she laughed nervously. “I don’t think I’m that good anyway.”

“Can I see?” he asked.

She stared at him for a moment before acquiescing. She unrolled the vellum and showed him her sketches. He touched the edge of the parchment, lips parted slightly in awe.

“These are amazing,” he told her. “They look like illustrations in books. You’re really very talented.”

“Oh… you flatter me,” she laughed nervously again. She needed to stop doing that right this instant.

“No, I’m being perfectly honest,” he looked at her. “You really are.”

“Well, thank you,” she beamed brightly.

“We should… um… head to the dormitories now,” he cleared his throat, leaning away from her.

“Lead the way, Ser,” she rolled her parchment back up and followed him out of the library.

They passed by Owain who was still rearranging the items in the stockroom. He gave them a slow nod of acknowledgement as they bade him a good night. They descended the stairs to the apprentice quarters and through another library, which also doubled as a sort of practice area. She only came down here when she needed a book (or when a certain Templar was on duty); it was usually filled with screams of apprentices accidentally setting themselves on fire and shooting random arcane bolts. The tower always held a bit of… darkness for some reason. Especially in the apprentice quarters. She thought it might be because it was so close to the basement where they kept strange magical artefacts. Only a few glow stones illuminated the tower after curfew and she was incredibly glad that she had Cullen by her side.

Cullen, Maker bless his soul, was trying to engage her in some light conversation. However, neither of them had any idea of what to talk about with the other. He had asked about her day, and she told him that she had spent it in the library reading. He asked what she was reading about, and she told him about the various myths and legends surrounding Thedas. She had only finished three chapters of that book when she decided to start sketching and then fall asleep. She wanted to ask how he was faring and whether he had heard any more interesting gossip, but they had reached the dormitory doors now. She stared at it, wishing she could spend more time with him but already knowing the answer to that.

She turned around, putting on what she thought was an alluring smile.

“Good night, Ser Cullen,” she bade him.

“Good night, Solona, sweet dreams,” he returned.

She pushed open the door quietly and slipped between the crack. She glanced back at him before slowly closing the door. She felt like her life was an endless series of closed doors.


	3. Last Kiss

He had heard that the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander were arranging for another apprentice to undergo the Harrowing ritual soon. And he had been the lucky Templar chosen to stand vigil over the lucky apprentice. Of course, that actually meant that he was potentially going to be said apprentice’s executioner. Though he would never dare to voice this thought out loud. Despite what most of the mages thought about them, most of his colleagues _did_ seem to… care about the mages. There were still the handful that rubbed him the wrong way, but he did understand where they were coming from. He used to grow up on the gruesome stories of abominations and rampaging lunatic blood mages that chilled his blood. One of the reasons he had taken up the sword in the first place.  
  
Cullen was, once again, standing guard in the library when Solona walked in. She had a rather large tome in her hands and she retreated to her usual spot in the corner. He found himself inching closer to her until he was very nearly next to her. She poured over the tome feverishly, as if it held all the answers to her internal dilemma.  
  
“Are you, um, alright?” he dared to ask.  
  
She looked at him, startled.  
  
“Yes,” she sighed. “I mean… I was just told that I was going to do my Harrowing soon. I-“  
  
She stopped herself and looked down at the tome.  
  
“I don’t know what to expect,” she said at last.  
  
He was very, _very_ sorely tempted to reveal the secrets of the ritual.  
  
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine,” he opted to say.  
  
She looked up at him again and smiled gratefully.  
  
“Thanks, Cullen,” she said softly then cleared her throat. “I should…”  
  
“Oh- right, I’ll leave you to it,” he nodded and shuffled away.  
  
Ever since that night he had stumbled upon her in the corridor, he had made it a point to check the library before the curfew bell rang. He especially made it a point tonight to check it before he resumed his duties, and felt a little relieved that he did. She was slumped over the tome, fast asleep, tendrils of dark wavy hair falling over her cheek as usual. He shook her shoulder and she stirred, blinking up at him blearily.  
  
“Cullen? Wha-?”  
  
Just at that moment, the curfew bell rang and she jumped out of her seat.  
  
“Maker’s breath!” she exclaimed. “Thank you so much, Cullen!”  
  
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her reaction.  
  
“Somehow I knew I’d find you fast asleep here,” he told her.  
  
She smiled at him sheepishly. “I should get back to the dorms now.”  
  
He nodded, taking a step back. “I could- uh- walk back with you… I’m heading in the same direction.”  
  
The look she gave him nearly made him pass out from holding his breath too long.  
  
“I would be honoured, Ser,” she said.  
  
“No, the honour is mine,” he bowed his head before gesturing for her to lead the way.  
  
The corridors were empty as they made their way to the apprentices’ quarters. Most of the denizens of the Circle had long retired to their beds and the only person they had passed by was Owain, rearranging the items in the stockroom again. Once they had reached their destination, she turned around to face him.  
  
“Thank you for escorting me, Ser Cullen,” she said politely but there was a twinkle in her eyes that he easily recognised.  
  
“It is my pleasure, Solona,” he replied in the same tone with a small smile.  
  
She leaned forwards and gave him a peck on his lips before quickly retreating into the dorms. The door closed after her, but he had managed to catch the impish look on her face.  
  
That _minx_.  
  


* * *

They would steal kisses in the shadows when they were alone. He knew it was wrong, that it was against his station and that it was strictly  _forbidden_ . Yet the idea of forbidden love thrilled him, and he found himself growing more confident in her presence. She would throw him looks in the library, seductively biting down on her bottom lip, just like how he usually did in their little trysts.  
  
Neither of them wanted to further what they had, and he was surprised to learn that she was, in fact… still innocent. He had thought, by the way she acted and the rumours flying around the Circle about her and the escapee mage, surely… she had kissed many boys, she admitted, but that was the extent of that. She had always known that she had a pretty face and she used it to her advantage. Solona liked to say that she had more than magic at her disposal, and he wholeheartedly believed her.  
  
Then the day came for her Harrowing. He was almost certain the Knight-Commander himself had figured out his overwhelming concern for her that night, if he hadn’t already figured it out before. He was pretty sure he was assigned her slayer because of that. When she collapsed onto the floor, he had sprung forth from his position and knelt down beside her still form. She was breathing softly, eyes closed and hair falling across her cheek. Exactly like all the times he had awoken her in the library, but she had not looked as deathly pale as this and he doubted she was going to wake easily right now. The First Enchanter went to his side and placed a hand on her forehead. He nodded to Greagoir.  
  
“It is done,” the elderly man said. “She has passed her Harrowing.”  
  
“Very well,” Greagoir nodded back. “Cullen, please see that the mage returns to her bed safely.”  
  
He gathered the young woman up in his arms, attempting to wipe off the frown on his brows in front of the Knight-Commander. Her skin felt cold against his cheek as he shifted her in his arms when he descended the hundred steps from the tower. The next day he stood around the corridor near the Chantry in hopes to catch her on her way to see the First Enchanter. He was not disappointed. Her hair was a mess as if she had just woken up (which was very likely) but there was colour in her cheeks again. He heaved a small sigh of relief at that.  
  
“Hello, Cullen,” her eyes lit up the same way they did whenever she saw him.  
  
“Hello,” he smiled back. “I’m glad to see you’re alright…”  
  
“Yes,” she nodded.  
  
“It would have been horrible if you had decided to turn into an abomination,” he said jokingly. “They assigned me to be the Templar to strike the killing blow, you see.”  
  
“Awh, such a shame,” she pouted. “I’m sure my abomination self would have gladly fallen… to your sword.”  
  
He resisted the urge to blanch. He didn’t think he would ever get used to the occasional risqué comment she liked to throw around. He looked around quickly then back to her, feeling a flush creeping up his face.  
  
“ _Solona_ ,” he chastised.  
  
She threw him a wink and ran off to the First Enchanter’s office. How she enjoyed torturing him so. She had passed by again a few minutes later with another man in tow. He recognised him as the Grey Warden that the whole tower had been all a thither about. He seemed exactly the kind of grizzled and hardened warrior from the tales of old. She was chatting to him about the war to the south and he caught the man mentioning that they needed more mages to bolster their ranks.  
  
He had been taking a rest in dining hall when he heard the shocking news. A blood mage had just escaped the tower and the Knight-Captain was barking out orders for his recapture. More gossip revealed that an initiate and a newly Harrowed mage had been involved in his escape as well.  
  
Newly Harrowed mage.  
  
Newly Harrowed… Maker’s breath, Solona.  
  
His brain told him no, but his heart desperately needed to see her. He hoped she had managed to talk her way out of another indiscretion but this… his heart sank into the pits of his stomach. During all the commotion, he had managed to slip down to the mage quarters where her new room was. He entered, finding it empty save for the various piles of vellum littered across the table and a few robes lying on the bed. He was sure the Tranquil had moved her things in already. Was this really all she owned? He turned around and was about to leave when he looked down into her familiar brown eyes.  
  
“A little eager to see me off?” she smiled up at him.  
  
“Andraste’s blood, Solona, I heard what happened,” he began. “ _What happened?_ ”  
  
She laughed but he really could not understand how she was managing that in light of the situation at hand.  
  
“Have you ever seen the sea?” she asked.  
  
“W-What?” he sputtered in disbelief.  
  
“I’ve always wanted to see the sea for myself,” she said. “I always read about it in storybooks, the crashing of the waves and the call of gulls amidst the sky. It sounds hopelessly romantic.”  
  
“They’re going to make you Tranquil,” he said. “Or kill you!”  
  
“I’m leaving the tower,” she told him, all jokes aside. This was the first time she had ever been this serious before. “I’ve been recruited as a Grey Warden.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
She looked away and started to gather up some things. She picked up a small wooden box from the table, hidden underneath the vellum.  
  
“Apparently, Irving had already planned for my recruitment,” she said. “Although they were not about to bring it up until tomorrow.”  
  
“Until you decided to help a blood mage escape- what were you even thinking?” he hissed at her.  
  
“I didn’t know he was a blood mage!” she turned to face him. “It was Jowan, they were going to make him Tranquil. He’s my friend, I couldn’t…”  
  
“If they were going to make him Tranquil, the Knight-Commander would surely have had reason to-“  
  
She pressed her lips against his, cutting him off mid sentence. Her kiss was intense, desperate and sad. He wrapped his arms around her slender frame, deepening the kiss and savouring the taste of her tongue on his. They both knew that it would be their last. She broke away first, leaning back to look at him.  
  
“It has been a pleasure, Ser,” she whispered.  
  
“The pleasure was all mine, Miss,” he whispered back.  
  
She opened the wooden box and picked out a silver ring. It was obviously too large for her and bore a red crest of what looked like two birds joined together. She handed him the ring and in exchange, he slipped his amulet over her neck. He then stepped back and they looked at each other, before he turned away and made his exit.

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic on this site! It comes in various parts in a series, and it's about the Warden told from the viewpoints of the people around her. They can all be read as stand alones, but should be read as a whole to get the entire story. Thank you so much for reading, I would greatly appreciate it you left a kudos if you enjoyed the story. Have a lovely day ahead! :)


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